


The Monster of Hallasholm

by ThefirstRanger



Category: Beowulf (Poem), The Brotherband Chronicles - John Flanagan
Genre: Angst, Gen, Inspired by Beowulf, character death but not really, some violence but not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThefirstRanger/pseuds/ThefirstRanger
Summary: The Andomal's power has been released and it wants revenge on Skandia. The Andomal sends a mysterious monster to harass Hallasholm and the Herons are the only ones who can defeat it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The Monster of Hallasholm

So. In old days gone by, there was a treasure guarded fiercely in the night. It was Skandia’s greatest treasure- the Andomal. The Andomal had been a part of Skandian history for longer than Skandia had been around. It had never left Skandian hands and blood had been spilled to keep it that way. No one questioned why it was so precious, one only had to look at the object to see why. The round amber colored orb held in it’s center one large, shriveled claw. No Skandian knows where or what the claw is from. The most popular theory is that it is from a dragon that the first Skandian killed. This theory is wrong. 

Three hundred and twenty seven years after the official guarding of the Andomal begins, it is lost under the watch of a groups of boys under the leadership of Hal Mikkelson. Hal and his Herons get the Andomal back and Skandia can breath again. The Herons are forgiven by the Skandians and life goes back to normal. The Andomal doesn’t forget. 

Lost in the recesses of history, the Andomal has powers that no one- except for it- remembers. There is a reason that guards were posted to keep watch over the Andomal, and it’s not just to keep it from being stolen. Nothing can get to the Andomal and the Andomal can’t get to anything else. 

The Andomal remembers how Hal brought it to Hallasholm and it remembers that Hal was the one who lost it in the first place. Balance is needed, so the Andomal uses its powers for the first time in a long time. Hal Mikkelson has been blessed, some would call it cursed, by the Andomal. The people who call it a curse are right. 

Hal is clever. Maybe too clever for his own good. He’s also now one of the Andomal’s favored ones, which is not always a good thing. Despite his cleverness, Hal never thought to think about where the claw in the Andomal came from. It came from not a dragon, but from a far away land. It’s a stolen artifact, ripped quite literally from a monster. 

It’s the same claw that now beckons Hal into the forest. Hal hears it calling to him in the dead of night and he has to answer it. He resists of course; the forest is not to be messed with at night and it’s generally not advised to follow the voices in your head. The siren call is too much for Hal to handle and he sneaks out of his house silently. Karina doesn’t even hear a thing, she turns over in her bed when Hal open the door, but she never stirs from her slumber. 

The Andomal has power again; taking it away from Skandia unleashed its’ dormant powers. Not all of them, granted, that’s why the Andomal is in silence right now. Skandians, or at least ancient Skandians, knew how to keep it contained. But the Andomal has bern awakened and it feels that Skandia has forgotten why they send warriors to protect and contain the Andomal. Skandia needs a reason to fear again. That reason will be Hal. 

It calls in the middle of the night. Hal walks almost as if in a trance to the clearing where the Andomal lays. He makes no sound. The guards don’t see him as he walks by deeper into the forest. 

As Hal walks deep in the forest, he is bombarded with flashes of visions. Visions of teeth, of blood, and an overwhelming feeling of hunger. The visions don’t last long and the Andomal has used up all of its power for tonight. But it has its claws in Hal now and it will never let go. Hal walks back to his home, silent like a predator hunting its prey. The door squeaks a little when Hal closes it, but Karina and Thorn do not wake. No one knows what is coming for them. 

The same thing happens the next night, except that it last a little bit longer. Hal wakes up with a splitting headache and only vague memories of the night before. He feels odd, like he’s watching himself go throughout the day. He doesn’t notice that his teeth are just a little bit bigger than they were before. People don’t notice the change in Hal and he goes through his day almost normally. The Herons joke around and take their ship for a quick sail around Hallasholm. They are about to leave for an escort trip that will take several months and the Herons want to have one last fun sail before they go to work. If the Herons don’t notice that Hal is a little quieter than usual, who can blame them? They’re about to leave for a trip and he’s the skirl. Of course he’s a little bit quiet. As Hal is looking out onto the blue sea, he gets the sense that his mother is waiting for him in the mere. Ridiculous. Karina is working at her inn, not in the swamp. He dismisses the thought as Stig comes and stands next to him. 

“It’ll be an easy trip. There and back.” said Stig, mistaking Hal’s quietness for nervousness. 

“I know, Stig.” replied Hal easily. “Hey, I’m thinking about taking a quick camping trip tonight in the forest before we leave.” 

Stig was startled. Hal didn’t really like camping and he would never leave his family the night before a trip. Hal spent those nights with Karina and Thorn, and often he and his mam Hannah would join Hal. “But…”

Hal smiled in response. “Don’t worry, I’m still going to have dinner and the farewell. I just… want to get away from it all tonight. Maybe check on the Andomal.” 

Stig wasn’t wholly convinced but it made sense. Still, he lowered his voice. “If Tursgurd is making you do this, blink once.” 

The thought was so absurd to Hal that he threw back his head and laughed. “Tursgurd couldn’t make me do anything now.” Stig was relieved and started to laugh with his friend, completely missing how Hal had longer teeth than normal. 

That evening, Hal spends his time with Karina and Thorn as well as the rest of the Heron’s families in the mead hall. There’s drinking and laughter, food and music. Overseeing it all at the head of the table was Erak. Erak doled out rings and gave generously out of his treasure store. The celebration and send off lasted long into the night and Hal was getting a headache again. He slipped out of the table and Edvin gave him an inquiring look. 

“I’m getting some fresh air,” explained Hal. Edvin nodded in response and turned his attention back to the party. In the coming months, Edvin would look back at this moment and wonder if he could have paid more attention, stopped Hal or done anything that would have prevented the coming storm. There wasn’t.

Hal disappears into the forest and he never comes back out. That night, the Andomal begins to strike. He can feel himself changing and Hal knows that he is a danger to others. The transformation starts and Hal howls in pain, a ghastly monstrous sound. No one hears it in the mead hall. 

Hal runs deeper and deeper into the forest in an effort to distance himself from the bright lights in the distance and the piercing sounds. They were the cause of his pain, he just knew it. The only thing that would make him feel better would be to see the Andomal again. Hal changes as he runs, he can feel his body transforming, and the pain overwhelms him. The next thing he knows, it’s morning and he’s by the Andomal memorial. The guards are dead around him. Hal remembers flashes of last night and to his horror, he realizes that he did this. Hot tears well up in his eyes and Hal sends up a quick prayer that their souls reach the mead hall with Hulde.

At that same moment, the sunlight burns his eyes and he hears, impossibly, the sounds of the rest of the Herons in the distance. They’re going to see him and the guards. It’s an impossible situation for any sane person and right now, Hal isn’t himself. The Andomal rears itself up in Hal’s head, whispering to flee the loud humans and the bright sun, and Hal obeys. He runs from the pain. 

From his hiding place in the trees, Hal can just barely make out his friends stumbling into the clearing. 

Ingvar comes into the clearing first and stops, throwing out his hands to block everyone else from the sight. Ulf and Jesper ducked under Ingvar’s large arms and immediately turned away. 

Thorn stepped forward. “Gorlog’s beard.” The clearing was a mess, all torn up. It was the worst thing Thorn had ever seen. 

Lydia immediately started to stalk around the clearing, putting her hunting skills to use. Edvin hurried over to the guards. 

Edvin looked up at the Herons after a minute. It was clear that what he concluded was horrible due to the stricken look on his face. “Guys, this wasn’t natural. There’s too much blood for the injuries on these men.” Edvin ducked his head away and the Herons weren’t quite sure why. 

The Herons shifted on their feet. They didn’t like what Edvin was implying. Magic and the supernatural were touchy subjects in Skandia. People prayed to Gorlog and Orlog along with the other gods, but that was supposed to be it. No monsters or anything else of the sort. There were the Kalkuras in Araluen several years back, but that was in Araluen not Skandia. 

Lydia joined them silently, Thorn at her side. “There are tracks all over this clearing that I have never seen before. Bigger than any tracks and deeper. Bipedal, if I had to guess, but also uses all four limbs at times.” 

No one questioned Lydia. They could see the footprints for themselves. 

“Is- is it a monster?” Wulf was almost hesitant in asking. He thought the others might make fun of him for his childish question, but no one cracked a smile. They couldn’t. 

Thorn answered and it chilled them to the bone. “Yes.” The Herons weren’t equipped to handle monsters. Pirates? Yes. Slave ships? Easy. Murderous cults and assassins? Piece of cake. Monsters? They had never encountered monsters, never fought them. Stig muscled his way to the front of the pack. 

“Where’s Hal? He was out here half the night. He would have stopped this or at least heard something.” 

Realization sunk into everyone at the same time. Hal would have heard some sound and he was too heroic not to rush in and help no matter the risk. 

“Oh no. No, no, no, no.” muttered Stig, running his hands through his hair. Edvin looked back at his friends and they saw that he had been crying. He had figured it out before they did. There were silent tears running down Lydia’s face. She didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was there. The tracks, Hal’s disappearance, the marks indicating something large was dragged, the blood. Oh Gorlog, the blood. 

Jesper had collapsed on the ground and Thorn was simply standing there. Hal was dead. His son was gone. Ulf and Stefan were searching desperately around the clearing and the surrounding area for any clues, any sign that Hal could be alive. There were none. 

Hallasholm heard loud, keen cries of mourning and came to investigate. The mourning cries only increased. 

Through all this, Hal watched silently through the brush. He had only the vaguest feeling that he recognized these humans. He turned away and stalked through the brush. The sun was hurting him and the humans were too loud. His new body felt odd, and yet it felt… right. 

The Herons don’t leave for their trip that day. The Heron doesn’t fly over the waves and she may never fly again like she did before. The town is unusually silent. There are no gatherings except for the funerals and the only sounds piercing the air are the cries of the sorrowful. The funerals are unlike others in recent memory. There’s an undercurrent of fear in them. The unknown is creeping toward Skandia and they have no idea on what to expect. 

It’s a week before the Herons leave again. They are reluctant, Thorn especially, but they must. There is a job to be done and they need closure. Sailing the Heron one last time for Hal is the only way to do that. Stig almost can’t do it. He’s not ready to be skirl. But he’ll do it for Hal and then he’ll come back to Skandia and hunt down the monster that killed Hal. All the Herons would. In Skandia, it was better to get revenge for your loved ones than it was to wallow in mourning. Hal would be avenged. There was no sign of the monster anywhere, though not for lack of effort. Search parties had been sent out several times and came back with nothing. 

In that week and the weeks after, Hal changes even more. He has not had enough to eat, but he prevents himself from feasting. He sticks to the shadows in shame over what he has done, the pain he has caused, until he forgets. He forgets who Hal Mikkelson is and becomes the monster the Andomal wanted. He becomes the monster that was killed before. The monster that will strike again.

Weeks pass and the monster is left to silence. Cool, dark silence. There is no pain in the silence. There is silence until it’s time to celebrate Tharon in Hallasholm and the town bustles with activity. The monster can feel the change in the air deep in his bones. 

The first night, the monster is not expecting the noise or the light. Fires are lit, hammers are swung, and songs are sung. It pierces his ears, or what passes for ears, and blinds his vision. The pain is so unexpected that the monster can’t do anything about it the first night.

The second night is even worse. The main mead hall overflows with life and light, worries temporarily forgotten. Prosperity is abound. The Andomal frowns and so does the monster. The Skandians need to remember. The Andomal will make them remember. 

The third night is when the monster strikes. Egged on by the Andomal, the monster attacks the bright mead hall. Its hunger is unleashed and no one can stop it. Erak and Svengal, along with all the other citizens grab weapons but no weapon can pierce the hide of the monster. It grabs men and feasts. In the false light of morning, the mead hall is torn apart and Hallasholm is in shock. The fearsome Skandians do not know what they are up against. 

Again and again, the monster keeps attacking the mead hall. Night after night, with no discernible pattern. Small periods of rest were ended by vicious attacks. No Skandian can defeat it, no attack works on it. They keep losing men and women and still they do not remember the power of the Andomal. Erak is distraught. He tries to send out word for help, but no one is willing to send men on a futile mission. Luckily, word reaches the Herons out on the sea. As soon as they hear the news, they head back. Skandia is in dire trouble and they have revenge to take. 

The Herons are stopped by an overeager guard as they go to get off of their boat. It’s been months since the Herons have been back in Hallasholm and those months have been brutal. The guard just wants to have some semblance of control and stops the Herons, demanding that they take off their weapons. The Herons comply, but have the weapons at arm's length. They will not be taken by surprise. The trip helped them process the grief, though it took a while. The Heron was Hal and Hal was the Heron. 

After proving themselves, the Herons are let through and they trudge through a defeated Hallasholm to meet Erak. Erak meets them in the mead hall, the vision of a king being worn down by constant attack. The Herons could still see faint hints of the glory of the hall, but a thick sense of darkness and defeat surrounded the hall. 

Stig steps forward, the vision of an old hero. “We’ll kill the monster.” His tone leaves no room for discussion. It’s a promise that all the Herons are willing to uphold. They shall kill the monster and gain revenge or die. They will not stop. 

The Herons nod in silent agreement and Erak wonders how these young people could seem so old. He supposes it’s his fault; for banishing them and for not protecting Hallasholm well enough. A new set of brotherbands ready to take up the mantle for Skandia. 

Thorn breaks the silence. It’s too pervasive and if they are going to be fighting for their lives tonight, silence would not prepare them. Thorn starts to chuckle, deep, low, and it terrifies everyone around him. 

Lydia joins in and soon so does Stig. Ingvar, Ulf, Stefan, Wulf, Edvin, Jesper. Every Heron is laughing and all Erak hears is the toll of doom for the monster. If anyone could take down the monster, even at terrible cost, it was these new Herons. The Herons weren’t the same people they had been when they started the journey. They were more determined in a way, more willing to seek revenge. 

News spread of the Herons’ return and people slowly filter into the mead hall. Friends and family are embraced and plans are made. The monster seems to hate light and sound, so to draw it in, the biggest feast Hallasholm has ever seen would be thrown the next night. 

No one dares to light any lights or make any sounds that night. The chance that the monster could come early is too great. It doesn’t and the Skandian people breathe a sigh of relief that they survived one more day. Fires are lit and the feast is prepared. The Herons are absent from the preparations, they have preparations of their own. 

Swords swinging, prayers said, and a trip to the Andomal clearing. It’s somber, silent, and overwhelming. It’s where they found out Hal was dead. It’s where the attacks started.

The memorial around the Andomal is full of trinkets, offerings really, in an attempt to appease the orb that people don’t know has power. Thorn kneels down on the ground and Ingvar follows suit. Stig looks around the clearing like he expected to see the ghost of Hal wandering around. If only Stig could see past the trees and see that his friend was lurking in the forest. After a minute, Stig offers up a silent prayer.

The twins and Stefan paced around the clearing, clearly expecting an attack. They were ready to fight anything that came their way. Lydia and Jesper made their way to the Andomal, the item that brought the Herons close together. 

“I just want to smash it.” Lydia broke the silence and everyone looked at her. Was she crazy? They had risked their lives to get the Andomal back. 

“It killed Hal.” No one was going to argue with her. They knew she was partially right, but Jesper has to speak up. 

“Don’t say that. It can hear you.” Lydia was taken aback. She hadn’t expected for Jesper to say that. 

“You make it sound like it’s an animal; it’s a rock. It can’t hear us or do anything.” The Andomal could hear these words, but it did not care. The girl, Lydia, was not from Skandia and she did not matter to it. 

Jesper looked a little embarrassed, but he continued on. “I dunno. I never wanted to say anything because it was, ya know, the Andomal, but it always gave me the creeps. Like it was living.” If only Jesper knew how close to the truth he was. He had always been the most superstitious of the Herons, keeping an eye out for goblins and other monsters. He can’t help it. There are things in this world that Skandians don’t know about and Jesper knows that. 

Thorn stood up suddenly. “Jesper is onto something. There have always been… rumors about the Andomal and what it can do. Terrible things.”

Lydia scoffed. “Then why do you keep it around old man?” 

“Because we have to.” came the solemn reply. It was Skandia’s greatest treasure, it could never be removed again from the land. 

“Lydia is right.” No one had expected Stefan to speak up. 

Thorn folded his arms in indignation. “What do you mean Stefan?” 

“This is going to sound crazy, but last night I had a dream where Hulde appeared and smashed the Andomal, but at the same time Hulde was Lydia.” Jesper may have been the most superstitious out of the Herons, but Stefan was devout. The gods liked to use him, liked to reveal information to him. 

Ulf wanted to crack a joke, saying that the matter was settled, but he saw Stefan’s face and stopped. Stefan was not joking, he was dead serious. 

"Who is Hulde?" Lydia was almost scared to ask. She didn't want to get entangled in the deeds of Skandian gods. 

Stefan replied. "She's the goddess of death." Lydia shivered.

“What does all of this mean?” asked Ingvar. 

“There has to be some connection with my dream, I can feel it.” 

Wulf jumped in the conversation. “Guys, let’s take a step back and look. What would Hal think about this situation?” 

Wulf was right. To solve this deadly problem, they would have to think like Hal. Smart, analytical Hal. Stig took a deep breath and exhaled. The Herons circled around the clearing, looking and thinking. There was silence all around them- no wind rushing through the trees, no birds chirping in the distance. They had all been scared away ages ago. 

After the third lap around the clearing, a realization popped into Edvin’s mind like lightning in a storm. It was strange and made little sense, but nothing about this situation did. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him. The pieces fit together and Edvin was horrified. He edged away from the Andomal, trying to put enough space between him and the cursed object. The other Herons noticed this and looked at Edvin strangely. 

“Not here guys,” Edvin was shaking his head like he couldn’t emphasize it enough. “Just… not here. Not in front of it.” He pointed to the Andomal and started to move out of the clearing. The others followed him tentatively, not saying a word. 

As they were moving further and further away, Ingvar began to realize why Edvin wanted to get away from the Andomal. The sense of dread he felt increased. If he was thinking the same thing as Edvin, they were going to be drowning in trouble. 

Edvin led the Herons to the cliffs by the shore, dark waves crashing upon the rocks below them. Everyone looked at him and Stig had crossed his arms like he was bracing himself against what Edvin was going to say. 

“I think the Andomal is controlling the monster.” This elicited exclamations of surprise and confusion. Ulf started to speak up but Ingvar interrupted him, cutting through the noise. 

“No, no. Edvin is right. Think about it, we don’t know where the Andomal comes from, it’s rumored to have powers, the attacks started in the Andomal clearing. It’s all connected.” 

Everyone was silent, absorbing what Ingvar just said. If it was true, then they needed to destroy the Andomal immediately. The attacks would never stop, Skandia would live in terror, and Hal would never be avenged. 

Lydia broke the silence. “How do we stop it?” The question was addressed to the group, but they all knew two months ago the question would have been directed at Hal. There was more silence, both for reflection and remembrance. The waves crashed onto the rocks and Jesper spoke. He had a dark grin on his face.

“I’ve got a plan.” The Herons changed Jesper’s plan a little, but they were almost out of time if they wanted to prepare for tonight. It was time to gain glory or die. 

The plan was laid out and preparations were made. Edvin was hurrying around town grabbing as many supplies as he could and the rest of the Herons were with their families. Well, all except one Heron. 

Stig was sitting by the cliff where he and Hal had first become friends. Thorn found him with his sword at his feet and Thorn went down to sit next to him. Stig looked over at Thorn and Thorn could see that there were tears in his eyes. Thorn was pretty sure the burning sensation in the back of his eyes would soon match Stig’s tears. He awkwardly wrapped Stig in a comforting hug and Stig started to sob. 

“I’m scared Thorn. I’m scared I’m going to die and never avenge Hal.” Stig kept repeating over and over. It was jarring to see Stig acting so young, but Thorn could not fault him. He often forgot that the Herons were young, barely adults, they acted like they had decades of experience and age. All Thorn could do was comfort Stig until he stopped crying and whisper “It’s alright to be scared. Hulde, I’m scared of death, but we will avenge Hal and destroy the Andomal.” 

Night comes and the mead hall fills up with people and light- the perfect bait for the monster. Erak has a feeling that this saga, this winding dance with the monster, is going to end one way or another tonight. So, he’s in rare form- laughing a boisterous laugh he doesn’t quite mean and making sure this is the best feast anyone has seen. It might be their last. Despite his efforts, the feast has an undercurrent of solemness to it. 

The Herons are the center of attention as everyone crowds around them, clamoring for attention. It’s all going well, though anyone could pick up on the fact that the Herons were on edge, until Tursgurd stands up. He’s clearly drunk and has a bone to pick, with Stig especially. 

Tursgurd starts spouting nonsense about how he beat Stig in a swimming match once and how Stig wouldn’t be able to beat a sea monster. He's clearly had too much to drink. Stig rolls his eyes- he has much bigger things to worry about than Tursgurd- but his friends leap to his defense. Stefan and Jesper come up with a particularly witty take down and the Sharks lead Tursgurd out of the hall, humiliated. 

The feast continues on for a bit and the noise increases. The monster will be coming soon and so everyone starts to file out except for the warriors and the Herons. Skandia is ready to make her last stand. 

Lydia nods at Edvin as she and Jesper slip out of the hall. They could only spare one Heron to help Lydia destroy the Andomal and Jesper was the stealthiest of them all. She fingered the atatl at her side and the axe on her back. She would need them in the coming fight. As Jesper raced towards the Andomal, he couldn’t help but think about how the saviors of the Andomal were about to be its doom. He would have laughed if the mission was so darn important. 

Before they reached the clearing, Lydia stopped Jesper, a wide eyed look on her face. She could hear the monster coming. 

“We need to hide now.” She practically pulled Jesper up a dark tree as a monstrous shape barreled past them, mad for blood. 

“Lorgan’s tooth…” breathed Jesper. It was bigger than any one of them had imagined. There was an air of darkness surrounding the troll like monster and Jesper wasn’t quite sure what the monster looked like. All Jesper knew for sure was that the monster was deadly. It felt cunning. Lydia was scared, but she swallowed her fear down. She motioned for Jesper to follow her down the tree and he followed. 

The atmosphere was dark and Lydia could feel power crackling in the air. The shadows seemed to tighten around them and suddenly Lydia felt like she was walking through water, the air was so thick. The deeper she and Jesper went into the forest, the more Lydia was determined to finish the Andomal, but the harder the Andomal pushed back. The darkness became thicker and Lydia could barely see in front of her. Jesper could feel things writhing around him like sea serpents. How could the Andomal have this much power? 

The monster arrived at the mead hall with a roar. The windows shook and the long abandoned benches fell over. Before the monster entered, there was only silence. The Herons knew what was coming and any noise would draw the monster closer. They had to wait for the signal from Thorn. The doors pounded and burst open with a scream of rage. The monster was here. 

The monster is a terrible sight to behold. The Herons have never seen anything like it before. But the monster has never faced anything like the Herons either.

It was time. Hal would be avenged and the monster would be stopped. Stig drew his sword and everyone else followed suit.

"Let's get em" shouted Thorn and they all charged at the monster. Ulf and Wulf were the quickest, reaching the monster first. In their haste, it was ready for them and with a massive claw, threw them to the ground. 

"Edvin, are they okay?" shouted Stig, his voice hoarse already. 

Edvin was already at their side. "They'll be fine." If we survive the night, he finished silently in his head.

Their blades seemed to have no effect on the monster. Stig and Thorn were hacking at the legs while Ulf and Wulf were trying to provide distraction. Ingvar had tried stabbing, but it was pointless. A rage was gathering inside him, more than anything he had ever felt. With a roar, he threw himself onto the monster, wrestling it to the ground. 

"Give him support!" No one knew who shouted in the dark hall, but the Herons immediately swarmed the man and the monster. Claws flailed in the air, limbs disappeared in the massive pile. 

It was impossible to see, to know what was happening, but somehow Ingvar knew. He knew he had the monster's paw in his hands and he did what he did so many years ago in a brotherband competition- he pulled. Ingvar pulled with all his might, straining and screaming until there was a bone aching rip and a scream. Ingvar felt nothing but the arm in his hands. 

Letting out a screech of pain, the monster fled the hall. Never had it experienced such resistance. Never had it felt this much pain. The carved doors became splinters as the monster barreled through them into the night. 

Somehow, they all knew it was heading towards the Andomal. 

"It's not getting away from me!" Stig was already sprinting, following the red trail the monster left. 

He paused at the doors. A horrible thought just occurred to him. "Jesper. Lydia." 

"We'll save them." And with that, the Herons raced into the night. 

As the monster was racing toward the glade, Jesper was slicing at the shadows surrounding him. Lydia stood above the Andomal and brought down her axe. A crack appeared and Lydia was thrown into the woods, landing with a grunt. Shadows swarmed around her, pushing her down. She had to get up. She would avenge Hal and his death. The shadows seemed to lessen and Lydia found that if she crawled slowly, she could get through the shadows.

The monster arrived just moments before the Herons did. Jesper's eyes widened and despite himself, he shrank towards the tree next to him. The monster looked around wildly, dripping with anger and pain. Every step seemed to be agony. Stig led the pack and arrived first at the clearing. All they could do was watch.

Thunder rumbled in the sky and rain pummeled the Herons. The monster had one knee on the ground and was convulsing in pain, howling at the black sky. 

Stig tried to step forward but Ingvar stopped him. 

"Look," Ingvar pointed a finger, blood from the monster still coating his hand. "It's changing." 

"I don't care what it's doing. It's going to die." Stig's voice was pure iron. Stig stormed towards the loathsome monster, ready to avenge Hal. The shadows seemed to fight his every step, but he made it close to monster. 

Raising his sword, Stig made a downward stabbing motion. The sword plunged into the grass and Stig was knocked onto the ground several yards away. The monster had become aware of his presence. 

Stig hit the ground hard and he could feel darkness threatening to overcome his vision. He could hear the Herons shouting, bit it was all muffled. He felt a shadow over him. Blood dripped down onto his leg. The monster was above him. He had failed Hal. Stig closed his eyes and waited for the attack that never came. 

A strong voice rang out. "Stop!" The monster and everyone turned.

It was Lydia. She was standing on the pedestal with the Andomal, axe raised above her head. Her face was bloody and bruised, but the look on her face promised nothing but victory. Nothing but revenge. Lightning split the air, illuminating the dreadful scene, and lit up half her face and her grim smile. For one brief moment, Lydia looked like death incarnate. 

No, Stefan thought to himself, she looked like Hulde. His dream had come true.

The scene lasted for a moment and then Lydia brought the axe down on the Andomal, shattering it. 

A scream erupted from what seemed both the monster and the Andomal. The night was overwhelmed with light and a blast knocked everyone to their feet. The world was correcting itself. 

Stig opened his eyes, blinking blearily. Thorn was struggling to get up and the others looked as confused as Stig felt. A quick glance around the clearing saw Lydia collapsed against the pedestal. Stefan and Wulf hurried to pick her up. 

Lydia was surrounded by amber shards of the Andomal and the shriveled black claw in the center seemed to shrivel up even more and dissolved into dust. When Wulf got to her, he nearly dropped her. Stefan stiffened next to him. 

In a trembling voice, Stefan pointed across the clearing. "G-guys, you're gonna want t-to take a look at this." 

Stefan was pointing at the young man laying and bleeding in the clearing where the monster had been. It was Hal, missing an arm. 

No one could move. How could they? The implications of everything started to hit them. Hal wasn't dead. Hal had been the monster. Hal had attacked them. Hal wasn't dead. Ingvar had ripped the arm off of his friend. Hal wasn't dead. Hal had been cursed. 

Edvin ran across the clearing grabbing bandages and linens from his pack as he ran. The others followed suit. 

Stig was frantic as he watched Edvin mutter to himself above the sleeping Hal, wrapping the stump with linens. After a lifetime, really it was minutes, Edvin sat back. 

"Is he-" Jesper couldn't bear to finish his question. 

"He'll live, for now, as long as we get him to Hallasholm. There's still the risk of infections and..." Edvin trailed off. 

"And?" 

Edvin's throat bobbed up and down, but Thorn finished for him. "And the threat of what will happen when the rest of Hallasholm finds out Hal killed their kinsmen." 

If people knew the truth, Hal wouldn't survive the night. They had come so far and now Hal would be taken from them again. 

"No," Stig was adamant. "We'll lie. Say we followed the monster to it's lair, fought it, and found Hal in the back." They could never tell anyone the truth. It would spell certain death for Hal and for perhaps all of them. 

Lydia turned away and marched towards the pieces of the Andomal. She had one more thing left to do. She gathered the loathsome pieces up in her arms and marched toward the cliffs. The Herons followed her, curious. 

Lydia stopped at the cliff and looked down at the aves crashing far below her. Tears, of happiness or of exhaustion no one could tell, ran down her face and she screamed as the pieces tumbled out of her arms and into the cruel sea. They would be lost forever. 

And so it was finished. The Andomal was never more. They took Hal back to Hallasholm, back to much surprise and celebration. The dark times were over, but the Herons didn't celebrate until Hal woke up days later surrounded by the best medics and his friends. 

Still weak, Hal had only the blurriest memories of his time as the monster and no one was keen to give him any details. Thorn and Hal now had matching hooky hands, a bittersweet detail. 

The memories haunted everyone, but especially the Herons. Laments were drawn and poems constructed of the epic glory of the Herons, but they couldn't shake the true memory of that night. They couldn't shake it until they saw Hal again. The clearing became overgrown in the decades that followed and the Herons, including Hal, went on to have even more adventures and gain even more acclaim. When all their funeral pyres had burned down to the embers, people could only talk about how their violence and courage had saved Skandia from a great and terrible monster.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by the poem Beowulf. I thought it went well with the nature of the Brotherband Chronicles and having the Andomal have a claw in the middle of it is just begging for a Beowulf comparison. I originally wrote this as a chapter in my 'Tales to Tell in the Storm" series but I liked it so much I'm going to publish it alone and as a chapter.


End file.
